Concrete Phoenix

The careful observers among you may have noticed the title change to this blog. "like a concrete phoenix" is a reference to Belgrade in the Bradt guidebook to Belgrade by Laurence Mitchell that the previous SALTer gave me. The full description is this:

Belgrade has the dubious distinction of the only European city to have been bombed on five separate occasions in the same century: during WWI (twice), followed by Nazi bombers in 1941, Allied bombers in 1944 and NATO bombers in 1999. Somehow, Belgrade always manages to rebuild and resurface like a concrete phoenix, only too aware that, lying as it does on a geopolitical, religious and cultural fault line, 'inconveniences' such as war, invasions and air raids inevitably go with the territory.

If it is not clear from this paragraph, the description- and the entire book- is clearly written with love by someone who deeply admires the beauty and strength and limitless character of this city. And I don't just say that to make up for loving on Sarajevo in the last post.

Anyway, that description always interested me, and now it has taken on special meaning. I am going to take a cue from beautiful Beograd and bear my own burdens with grace and strength. If Belgrade can survive- and, dare I say, thrive- through and despite all that it has, I can certainly spend this year (or years) in this place growing and learning through and despite my own circumstance of loss and pain and sorrow. I don't dare claim to be a concrete phoenix myself, but I aim to be at least worthy to live in one.

Further encouragement to stick it out came today in two wonderful letters, one from my grandmother and one from a dear childhood friend. They were both written before my father died, but could not have come at a better time or with more appropriate words. My grandmother writes "...think only of what is being added to your life, not what you miss," and my friend writes, "dig your toes in deep, love, do not let go."

I can't promise either of those things, but I will do my best... like a concrete phoenix.